


Who You Gonna Call?

by A_Damned_Scientist



Category: Farscape
Genre: Crack, Crack Relationships, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-27 22:55:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13258329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Damned_Scientist/pseuds/A_Damned_Scientist
Summary: Rygel is Not To Be Messed With.





	Who You Gonna Call?

**Author's Note:**

> Well, we all know what this Starburst Challenge (SC93) is about. Beyond that there is nothing much to warn for, and I hope we are beyond spoilers now in this fandom. And I’d like to repeat to Shermel and Vinegardog that, despite Noranti once again appearing in one of my fics in a compromising position, I do NOT have a ‘Wayne Rooney complex’. ;D
> 
> Oh, and these characters arent mine and I am not making any profit from mistreating them.
> 
> Thanks to Vinegardog for the beta read
> 
> Word count: A mere 800 or so. You don’t want me to write the smut-behind-the-fic do you? I thought not.

**Who You Gonna Call?**

  
  
Rygel sat in his secret den and seethed. He didn’t know what ‘magic’ trick Maldis had pulled over the eyes of his shipmates this time in order to become accepted as part of Moya’s crew. And frankly, he didn’t much care. He had largely kept out of it the previous two times they had met The Big Giant Ham and frankly, he would have been happy to have done so again on this occasion too. Well, he would have done so if Maldis had not, it seemed, come aboard with the express purpose of seducing Noranti.  
  
There were some things, after all, up with which Rygel would not put.  
  
The vid link in Rygel’s den streamed a horrific set of noises and images. To say that Noranti was actually exerting herself in a prolonged, athletic and gymnastic coupling session was something of an understatement. And as for Maldis…  Rygel had no idea ANYONE could do that, or indeed that anyone would want to. Rygel’s tastes were all together more…  what would the oomans say? Vanilla. Like ice cream.  
  
Frelling body-breeders and their weird recreational…  recreating practices. Rygel hadn’t been witness to such a noisy, energetic and intrusive coupling since Aeryn and MaximumCretin had despoiled and polluted Talyn with their overly-imaginative and boisterous antics.  And he hadn’t had to watch that. Although he had, of course, purely for research purposes. Extensively. Diligently. Until Pilot had informed him that Stark had stolen his only vidchip of the proceedings.  
  
However, this particular home movie was certainly not going into the ‘keeper’ file, Rygel resolved, full of anger, resentment and jealousy as he made the final adjustments to the new gizmo he had had SpareCrouton design, make and attach to his thronesled shortly after Maldis had first made his intentions towards Noranti plain.  
  
Yes, the Nuclear Accelerator and Proton Pack (whatever they might be) and Portable Containment Unit were ready. All that remained was the opportunity to use them. Rygel was a Dominar of action: he made his own opportunities. Flicking off the vid feed, just as Noranti’s mouth once again formed an O, her side-eyes bulging and her central eye burning flame red yet again, Rygel climbed aboard his sled and set off for command.  
  
“Mmm, Maldis,” Rygel commed, trying to sound nonchalant rather than furious.  
  
“Yes! What? I’m busy!” The Big Giant Ham snapped back, acting his usual charming self.  
  
“Something most peculiar is happening… Could you meet me on Command? I think you need to see it.”  
  
“Bah…!” Rygel heard his nemesis complain before cutting the comms.  
  
Rygel settled in to wait, checking the controls and making final adjustments to his new toy to pass the time. Maldis would be there, sooner or later, of that he was sure. And then the overdressed, oversexed over-actor would pay.  
  
Finally, a red-faced, angry Maldis bustled onto command, dressed in only a ridiculous burgundy velvet dressing gown. Noranti was close behind, wearing nothing but a thin, sweat soaked camisole, a pair of unlaced boots and a pair of Maldis’ harlequin-patterned bloomers.   
  
Good. She needed to see what was coming next. Then maybe she would snap out of it and return her affections towards her True Love: Rygel.  
  
Rygel hadn’t lived so many hundreds of cycles without learning not to delay or launch into exposition before delivering a killer blow. Such behaviours were for losers, the sort of losers who had never read the Evil Genius Handbook.  
  
So he simply flicked the switch.   
  
What looked like a crackling arc of lightning snaked out of the ‘DRD Special Turbo Crevice and Staircase cleaning attachment nozzle’, which SpareCrouton had used as the business end of his new creation. Immediately Maldis was screaming out his last, doomed and agonised protests as the device did its work, sucking him in.  
  
It was all over in a couple of microts. Maldis was nothing more than a glowing cloud of blue lightning inside the thick, transparent window built into the Portable Containment Unit.  
  
“Smokin’” Rygel mimicked the dialogue in one of Cretin’s movies and allowed himself a triumphant smirk. “I came, I saw, I kicked his ass.”  
  
However, Maldis’ influence had not been entirely dispelled. Noranti, wild haired and wide eyed, turned to stare at Rygel with new-found appreciation and a disturbing edge to her crazed grin.  
  
“Are you the Keymaster?” she enquired in a deep, sultry baritone which Aeryn would have been proud to speak in. “I am the Gatekeeper…” She clarified, staring at Rygel with a clearly lascivious intent which made him feel both excited and yet also… nah… just excited. He was a Dominar of Action, after all.  
  
  
The End


End file.
